


Smaug the Terribly Impolite

by ilvos01



Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-19 06:13:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/880373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilvos01/pseuds/ilvos01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Done as a silly request on Tumblr- Temeraire/Smaug riddling contest. <br/>Please don't judge me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smaug the Terribly Impolite

**Author's Note:**

> \- _ -
> 
> I hope you at least get a bit of a laugh out of this.

Laurence writhed around in Smaug’s grip, struggling to get out.  
  
Temeraire fumed at the larger dragon. “You let him go this instant!”  
  
Smaug puffed a plume of smoke out of his nose, making Temeraire and Bilbo cough and sputter. “Make me.”  
  
Growling, Temeraire’s ruff rose, as he fidgeted around. “Now, listen here you-“  
  
Bilbo tapped on Temeraire’s head. “Mister Temeraire, it might not be best to anger Smaug. Then he’s sure to squash Mr. Laurence.”  
  
Temeraire’s eyes bulged, but he remained silent. Smaug saw this and laughed, the grating sounds echoing through the pits of Erebor. “It has been a long time since I have seen one of my own kin, black one. Though I must admit, I do not recognize your smell.” His long tongue snaked into the air for a moment. “You smell like men.”  
  
“You smell like musty old gold,” Temeraire huffed.  
  
Smaug narrowed one great eye at Temeraire. “My gold is not _musty_.”  
  
Laurence cried out as he was squeezed tighter. “My dear, it might be best to listen to Mr. Bilbo and not to _anger_ the beast, hmm?”  
  
“Pray forgive me, Laurence.” Temeraire meekly bowed his head, but his ruff remained flared.  
  
Smaug laughed again. “You know, young one, I do believe I never caught your name. Would you like to tell me before I kill you all?”  
  
Temeraire reared. “I-“  
  
“ _No_!” Bilbo hissed, whispering into Temeraire’s ear. “Don’t give him your name. Names have power, especially for a dragon.”  
  
Temeraire whispered back. “I’ll do what I please! If he wishes to come and harm me and Laurence at another date, he is welcome to try!” He turned his head back to face Smaug and cleared his throat. “I am Temeraire! And-“  
  
“ _Add some titles!_ ” Bilbo hissed. “ _Fancy ones. They don’t have to be real._ ”  
  
Temeraire nodded. “As I said, Temeraire! Crosser of Continents! Celestial of China! The Curegiver, the Napoleonic Trickster. Lord of Divine Winds!”  
  
“ _Much better_ ,” Bilbo complemented.  
  
Temeraire puffed his chest out proudly, displaying his chest-plate with pride. “And _that_ -“ Temeraire glanced at Laurence. “-is my captain.”  
  
For Temeraire thought, and rightly so, that Laurence was not a dragon, and if Smaug happened to sneak up on him at some time in the future, he would be quite helpless. So Temeraire avoided giving Laurence’s name to the beast.  
  
“My captain, the Curegiver! Captain of the British Empire! Former captain of the Reliant! Prince of China! Most honourable man west of Istanbul!”  
  
Laurence could not help but wince a little at the excess of titles.   
  
Smaug’s smile gently waned. “I tire of this, wyrmling. I shall kill you now.”  
  
“Wait!” bilbo shouted, waving his arms about, standing atop Temeraire’s head. “Wait, wait. We have, uh, a proposition for you!”  
  
Smaug sneered. “A proposition?”  
  
Biblo nodded. “Yes, yes. Uh, most honorable calamity, we challenge you for the life of Mr. Laurence, whom you have in your hand there-“  
  
Laurence wheezed uncomfortably.  
  
“in a contest of wits.”  
  
One of Smaugs massive claws drummed upon his pile of gold. “And what do _I_ get in return?”  
  
Bilbo scoffed. “Well, you wouldn’t want to say that you backed off of a challenge, the great and terrible Smaug? Afraid of a little game?”  
  
Smaug growled. Bilbo smiled. “I thought not.”  
  
“Y-you may have my breastplate,” Temeraire offered. He pushed his chest out to demonstrate, the large opal gleaming against the dim torchlight. “You do not seem to have much silver in your collection.”  
  
Laurence, who knew very well the importance of the jewelry to Temeraire, was quite touched.  
  
Bilbo, on the other hand, knew nothing of the breastplate and was quite eager to get on with it. “Yes yes, the breastplate!”  
  
Smaug cast an appraising eye upon the piece. “Very well. I accept your conditions.”  
  
There was a collective sigh of relief.  
  
“I also get to eat all of you.”  
  
Bilbo sighed. “Yes, yes, you all seem to wish that.”  
  
Temeraire scoffed. “You shall not ea-“  
  
Bilbo silently kicked him on one of his spines. Temeraire cringed, but fell silent.  
  
Smaug exhaled, letting a massive cloud of steam and smoke fill the cavern. “Now then, halfling. Name your challenge.”  
  
Bilbo, of course, hadn’t thought that far. “Uh....”  
  
Temeraire, of course, thought Bilbo _had_. He awaited the hobbit’s response patiently.  
  
Laurence, unable to speak, went over his chess openings in his head, _because these sort of things always come out to chess,_ he thought.  
  
Bilbo’s mind reeled. “...a game of riddles!”  
  
Laurence coughed. “What?”  
  
Temeraire brightened considerably. “Oh, my, I didn’t know riddling was a game. How fun.”  
  
Smaug sneered. “Very well. I accept your terms.”  
  
“Aha! But,” Temeraire interrupted, “perhaps, for the duration of the contest, we should have Laurence back? So we can more easily speak. It is not as though we can escape.”  
  
Temeraire was right, as the only exit in the dwarven palace large enough to accommodate  him was the main door, on the far side of Smaug.  
  
The red dragon grunted, and deposited Laurence roughly onto Temeraire’s back. The weary captain grabbed the harness, hanging onto it for dear life.  
  
Bilbo hurried back down Temeraire’s neck to aid him, and Temeraire himself stretched his head around, so that the three could converse with ease.  
  
Laurence glared at the hobbit. “Riddles?! Why the dickens did you think riddles would be a good contest?!”  
  
Bilbo shrugged. “It’s worked before.”  
  
“Despite the grisly circumstances,” added Temeraire, “I have never thought of inventing and solving riddles as a contest! It is quite the idea. I shall have to share this back home, I do think Maximus would quite enjoy it.”  
  
Laurence waved a hand. “Yes, yes. But what should we do?”  
  
Bilbo laughed. “What can we do? Riddles are our only hope.”  
  
“Ugh.” Laurence rubbed his temples. “Alright, fine. Do you know a lot of riddles?”  
  
Bilbo nodded. “At least, more than I did last year. And you?”  
  
“A few. Most of them involve sailing, however. And you, dear?”  
  
Temeraire nodded. “Mei told me one. And a few of the runners we had in Loch Laggan shared some while they bathed me.”  
  
Smaug growled loudly. All three turned their heads to face him. Bilbo smiled and raised a finger. “O-one moment, Mr. Smaug.” He turned back to the group. “I’ll go first, eh?”  
  
Laurence and Temeraire conceded, and Bilbo hopped atop Temeraire’s head. The Celestial turned to face Smaug. Bilbo, standing neatly atop Temeraire’s brow, cleared his throat. “Are you ready, Mr. Smaug?”  
  
Smaug growled. Bilbo paled. “Very well, then.”  
  
“ _Thirty white horses, on a red hill._  
 _First they champ,_  
 _Then they stamp-_ “  
  
“-And then they die.” Smaug sneered once more. “I have considerably more horses than you do, halfling. And they are quite sharp. I have heard all of the riddles you told to that wretched creature that follows you.”  
  
Bilbo fidgeted a moment, before whispering to the dragon. “H-he follows me?”  
  
Smaug grinned, wickedly. “You did not know? Oh, how mortals make me _laugh_.”  
  
The hobbit whirled back to face Laurnce and Temeraire. “Well, I’m done. You gentlemen will have to determine the riddles yourself.”  
  
Laurence shook his head. “Very well, I have one. Temeraire?”  
  
“You’ll have to stand upon my head, Laurence.”  
  
“Yes, yes, let’s just get this done with.”  
  
Gripping Temeraire’s skull, struggling to stay on, Laurnce turned to face Smaug. “Ahem, yes, right. Here goes.”  
  
“ _Weight in my belly,_  
 _Trees on my back,_  
 _Nails in my sides,_  
 _Feet I do lack._  
 _What am I_?”  
  
Smaug exhaled, a long plume of smoke trailing from his nose. For several moments, he remained silent.  
  
Laurence let out a breath of relief. “My, that was much easier than I-“  
  
“SHIPS!” Smaug bellowed, his great voice reverberating throughout the dwarven city. “You are a ship, human. I do enjoy-“ he snaked a tongue of fire through his teeth, “-burning them. As I shall enjoy devouring you.”  
  
Laurence nodded, slowly. “Thank you, Temeraire. Please put me back now.”  
  
Temeraire obliged, and the three were once again huddled to try and compete with Smaug.  
  
“It is my turn for a riddle now, hatchling.”  
  
They glanced at the great beast. “Oh, yes,” Laurence managed. “I had forgotten that he was supposed to go, as well.”  
  
Temeraire shrugged. “Well, go on, then.”  
  
Smaug’s voice rumbled into their ears, bearing with it words sung in a haunting timbre.  
  
“ _Brightly I shine_  
 _In circles I travel_  
 _My wise mysteries_  
 _The sailors unravel._ ”  
  
There was silence. The hobbit, man, and dragon all pondered the words.  
  
Temeraire raised a claw. “So, we’re guessing what you are?”  
  
Smaug blinked, having forgotten that part of the riddle. “...yes.”  
  
“Just checking.”  
  
Laurence scratched his chin. “Alright, it seems we have a sailing motif here. What’s connected to sailing, that shines brightly, goes in circles, and that has mysteries to unravel? Hmm...”  
  
Temeraire snorted a bit at Laurence’s ponderings, but had the good decency to hide it. “Perhaps the stars, Laurence?”  
  
“Ah, yes, that makes sense,” Bilbo agreed.  
  
Laurence glanced up at Smaug. “Stars?” He asked.  
  
“Well, is that a question, or an answer?” Smaug replied.  
  
“...both?”  
  
“No don’t do that.”  
  
Laurence huffed. “Fine. It’s an answer. Final answer, stars.”  
  
Smaug tilted his great snout upwards at the small group of riddlers. “Correct.”  
  
There was a collective sigh of relief. Laurence nearly jumped for joy. (He did not, however, he was on the back of a dragon.)  
  
Bilbo patted Temeraire’s back. “I believe that’s your turn, then, Temeraire?”  
  
Temeraire nodded eagerly. “Yes. I believe I’ll start with one of the riddles I learned at Loch Laggan. Ahem.”  
  
“ _Girls is shits_  
 _Boys is shits_  
 _Smells like shits_  
 _Whats tastes like shits?_ ”  
  
Temeraire held his neck high, clearly proud of his riddle. “This is quite a popular one among the runners.”  
  
Laurence, dumbfounded, could only agree. “I can see why...”  
  
Bilbo was knocked unconscious by the sheer improperness, and the language, and _there’s no need to use such language in this house you can use something more educated if you pleased I will not stand for such blatant dishonorable crudeness-_  
  
Smaug’s nostrils flared. “This is not a riddle! This is a childish insult!”  
  
Temeraire shook his head. “No, I assure you, it is a riddle. The answer is quite clever as well.”  
  
Smaug fumed, puffing smoke and small tongues of fire out of his mouth as he mulled over the silly rhyme. “I don’t- I can’t-“  
  
The great dragon let out a terrible roar, spewing fire across the entire room. Along with it, he produced a great quantity of smoke.  
  
Laurence watched the smoke spew forth, holding an unconscious hobbit and sitting on Temeraire’s back. “Why, I do believe this would be an ideal time to escape, my dear.”  
  
Temeraire wholeheartedly agreed, and flew through the smoke to Erebor’s great door, escaping easily.  
  
* * *  
  
Maximus pondered over the riddle for a moment.  “Why, I would say the answer is both boys _and_ girls, as they are both shits, and at least one of them smells like shits, therefore they both likely taste like shits.”  
  
Temeraire beamed. “Correct! It took me much longer than that to puzzle it out, Maximus, well done.”  
  
Maximus straightened his neck, glancing around proudly. “Yes, well, it was simple deduction! My, you’re right, Temeraire, riddling is a fun game.”  
  
Runner Dodgson snorted, seated upon Temeraire’ back. “Oi, here’s one for you lugs. How’s a raven like a writing desk?”  
  
Both dragons scratched their chin as they pondered the question.  
  
And both Laurence and Bilbo turned to drinking within the year.


End file.
